Susan decided several more smacks were justified and as David tried hard to stand still as her open hand landed again and again on his legs the tears ...tarted again. “Down boy. You don’t get yours. Not from me anyway.” Susan took a tissue and threw it at David. “Go on do it yourself.” “What?” he stammered, sniffing. Susan picked up the cane and ordered gruffly, “Enough of not doing as I say. Put your hands on your head, feet apart.” David did as he was told. Susan put the cane just under his. "Sam shouldn't have bought that one, but I suppose—" It's a lot worse than that, Cam," Marilyn interrupted. "Now look." And she picked up the newspaper, which was open to a review of last night's opening. She shoved it at us and covered her eyes.I grinned at the headline: "St. John shines in Traviata." Oh, and hadn't she just! And I kept staring at it until Camilla abruptly yelled "Shit!"I looked at her in surprise, and then followed her finger pointing to the third or fourth paragraph. And saw. More

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